


Unexpected Guest

by The_Arkadian



Series: The Muses [2]
Category: Der Teufelsgeiger | The Devil's Violinist (2013)
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, all in the author's head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:21:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Arkadian/pseuds/The_Arkadian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Tumblr "imagineyouricon":</p><p> </p><p>    Imagine coming home from school/work to find your icon on your sofa, drunk off their head.</p><p>    The doors were locked when you came home and they weren’t there when you left this morning. So how did they get in?</p><p>    Very strange.</p><p>(My Tumblr avatar at the time was David Garrett as Paganini in "Der Teufelsgeiger".)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected Guest

I’m not sure how he got in or where he came from, but there he was. Paganini, large as life - and very, very drunk. On my sofa. At two in the afternoon. Or at least someone who looked very like him, right down to the delicate fingers that were plucking the strings of a violin.

 _My_ violin, I realised, as he glanced up, eyes focusing on me with difficulty.

"This violin," he managed to slur indignantly, "is _shit_.”

"I’m not surprised, I bought it for a tenner in a charity shop," I replied as I walked through to the kitchen, setting down the shopping bag on the table. I could hear him getting up with effort from the sofa then stumbling after me as I gazed around the kitchen. I frowned at the mess; there were several demijohns of my homebrewed mead on the table, several of which looked to have been sampled.

"Your… wine… it is very good though,” he continued as I glanced at him with a raised eyebrow, and then he gave me a charming, boyish grin.

"It’s mead," I replied. "It’s also about eighteen percent. How much did you drink?"

"I lost count," he said airily, waving the violin around. "This violin - why do you have such a shit violin?"

"Because I’m a shit player who has only been teaching myself for a couple of months," I replied. "I cannot believe I am discussing a crap violin with Paganini, of all people, in my kitchen."

"You know me!" he exclaimed delightedly as he stood there, swaying.

"I should think so, you’re one of my favourite composers," I remarked as I reached for the violin. He snatched it back out of my reach.

"I thought you said it was a shit violin?" I said.

"It is true," nodded Paganini. "But it was the only violin I could find."

"Hang on, you broke into my house and drank my mead… because you were looking for a violin?" I said slowly.

"And I found one!" he said triumphantly, before ruining the effect with a hiccup.

"You’re drunk," I said. He grinned boyishly.

"And you love me," he said roguishly.

He was right, of course.

~ _Fin._ ~


End file.
